The Hero's Not So Easy Life
by Simple Heart
Summary: Rodney doesn't like the way John has to play the sacrificial lamb. Slah John/Rodney


Rodney walked through the ancient, ornate corridors of Atlantis. Her gentle humming as she provided the power to keep the city alive calmed him. It was like coming home. The stress of the day was still knotted in his shoulders, but he was semi-relaxed now that he wasn't afraid for his life. His stomach growled irritably at him, reminding him of exactly why he was roaming the halls.

Rodney rounded the corner and there they were, all around him, congratulating the Colonel on another job well done. Blue met green as they locked eyes. The scientist felt himself reflexively smiling back at the lopsided grin; he couldn't resist. It was something that irritated him almost as much as John's preference for death runs. He could be elbow-deep in some device, trying to keep it from blowing them sky high, and if John grinned at him he couldn't help but at least give a twitch of his lips in response.

John had been the one to step up and save the day…again. His idiotic martyr complex had reared its ugly head for the millionth time. It was an admirable trait according to Weir, but one he'd rather John not have. Who knows when they might be sending him back to Earth in a casket.

Rodney had__gotten to _s_ave the day before and even managed to__get the girl, or rather the guy, though John insisted it was the other way around since _he'd_ been the one to make the first move. John could think that all he wanted, Rodney mentally scoffed.

Rodney wasn't the gun-toting cowboy, but his brain could beat any piece of technology into submission; something that seemed to save them on a regular basis.

He took another turn, heading for the mess hall. He hadn't eaten in four hours and he was starving. It was John's fault they were late getting back. It was supposed to have been a peaceful negotiation over sharing crops but had turned into a three-hour heated discussion. It wasn't his fault he'd said something that made the elders angry and John had to try and patch things up. Needless to say, things hadn't gone according to plan and they'd ended up running for their lives while getting shot at… again. Weir was going to try to send a different team tomorrow. He thought the elders were just too sensitive.

Rodney quickly loaded his tray and looked around for an open table Thanks to the hour, the mess was actually quite full and that made it difficult to find a secluded spot. He saw a table in the far corner that was unclaimed, and though there were two occupied tables near it, he supposed it would have to do.

Rodney looked out the window, watching the sunlight reflect off of the ocean waves far below. He was glad the mission had been a short one. It had been dark by the time they left P7X-4266, and stepping through the gate into the afternoon sunlight had like felt going back in time. On longer missions the gate-lag, as he liked to call it, could be awful. He'd usually sleep during the day and do all his work at night.

Rodney heard the long, loping footsteps right before a tray was smacked down in front of him. He jumped a little and his knee connected with the underside of the table.

"Damn," he cursed, as he rubbed the now-tingling limb.

That was another trait of John's; his stealth. It was one of the few things that John did that got his heart racing, but it was still annoying. That and an ear nibbling fetish his lover seemed to have acquired.

"Sorry," John drawled, folding himself into the chair.

Rodney sent him a glare. John sounded less than sorry and the scientist could see the barely concealed smile.

"What do you want?" Rodney growled, the pain in his knee dissipating to a tingle.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten off to, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out."

There was that grin again. He snorted, picking up his spoon and scooping up some of what was supposed to pass as mashed potatoes.

"Hey, if you hadn't taken so long to talk to those old guys, I wouldn't be starving," he replied, pointing his loaded spoon at John.

"If you hadn't insulted Cadmien's daughter, I wouldn't have had to," John pointed out, watching Rodney shove food into his mouth, "And slow down a little. As much as I enjoy sharing your personal space, I don't want to have to do the Heimlich."

"Did you see the way she was looking at you? She was asking for it," Rodney defended, moving on from his potatoes to his steak.

"Were you jealous?" John asked, quirking a brow.

Rodney shot him another glare. "Of course not."

"Don't worry about it. I'm not going anywhere" John assured him, taking a swig of water. "So what were you thinking about?"

"Hmmm?" Rodney looked at him questioningly.

"Back there in the hall. What were you thinking about?"

"How I never get bowed down to for saving the day yet again," Rodney quipped, looking up from his loaded tray.

Uh huh," John said taking a bite of his sandwich, seemingly to be waiting for the rest of the explanation.

"Don't give me that look. I was just thinking about the hero thing."

"Hero thing?"

"It's nothing important." Rodney waved his hand, discounting the conversation topic. "Now shut up. I'm trying to not die of hunger here."

~``…``~

Later that night, they lay together in Sheppard's bed. John had managed to get a hold of a larger one so they could both fit on it and, more importantly, so he didn't have to fight the clutter in Rodney's room.

He ran a hand through Rodney's hair, reveling in the softness.

"You know, I'm not sure I've ever seen you pig out quite that much."

Rodney shifted so he could send him a glare.

"I was hungry, and half of it was wasted by you."

"Hey, you started it. I don't appreciate being flicked with peas." He teased.

"You were trying to steal my pudding cup. It was justified!" Rodney indignantly snapped.

"You were trying to steal my pudding cup. It was justified!" Rodney indignantly snapped.

John chuckled and just continued to thread his hand through Rodney's hair. The scientist's anger gave way to confusion and worry.

"What?" John asked.

"You look like you're thinking."

"And what's wrong with that?" He raised a brow.

"Well, besides the obvious fact that you seem to be incapable of doing it and… wait, no that's why."

John gave Rodney a gentle whack to the back of the head before resuming his strokes.

"I was just thinking about what you said earlier," he admitted.

"What?"

"The hero thing," he clarified, his hand stilling.

"Of course you were." Rodney rolled his eyes. "You think about the stupidest stuff."

"What made you think about it today?"

Rodney sent him another glare. "You and your stupid sacrificial lamb tendencies."

"Sacrificial lamb tendencies?"

"Yeah you running off like lamb to slaughter, thinking you can save everyone."

"And why were you thinking about my… tendencies?" he asked curious.

"Because you came home a glorified hero, but next time…"

He tried to read his lovers face for any indication of why he had trailed off, but the now dark eyes wouldn't look at him.

"Does it bug you?" John asked softly.

Rodney turned to him, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Yes!" Rodney exploded, shifting so his arms were on either side of John and he was looming over him. "Every time you go off like that it nearly gives me a heart attack! Knowing if I don't do my job right-!"

Here the scientist broke off, closing his eyes and shaking his head as the anger drained away.

"I know it's just you being you and that I'll be able to save you, but…"

Rodney opened his eyes and they stayed like that for a moment, searching each other. Then John reached up and tugged him back down so Rodney's head was on his chest and he began chording a hand through his hair once more.

"I remembered a quote someone told me once," John began. "'A hero is always a hero by mistake'."

Maybe I do those things because I know you and your mighty brain are there to save me, just like you should know that I'll always be there to save you."

"So I've just gotta trust you, huh?"

You make it sound like a bad thing," John chided. "I thought you loved me?"

"What can I say, it must be your sparkling personality," Rodney replied with a half-grin.

John sent him a _look_.

"But as long as you come back alive and I'm with you at all times, it's okay," Rodney sighed.

"You make me sound like I'm some kind of kid."

"You are. Now go to sleep like a good little boy. I have to get up early to make sure no one screwed up anything while we were gone."

"Oh, come on. Show your hero some gratitude," he said, poking Rodney

"What?"

John just stared at him, a certain gleam in his eye, before he flipped them over so he was on top.

"I worked hard today. How's about a little gratitude?" he replied, his voice husky as he nibbled Rodney's ear before working down to his neck.

"Come on. I have to get up early!" Rodney tried to resist.

"We're both alive, no thanks to you I might add, so what's the matter? You do owe me after all."

"For what?"

"Shut up. It's time for the 'thank-god-we're-still-alive' sex. I know you like it."

Rodney just moaned his agreement.


End file.
